A photograph

A found photograph becomes the topic of conversation in a family because it is being hidden by an Aunt.

I found an old photo of my great grandfather, my grandfather, his brother, his son (my father) and his nephew in my mom’s cupboard the other day. On the back on the right hand corner, in a small scrolling script are their names and the date 1975. The photo is a real life sepia filter. The colour has a distinct brown tone with a small white border around the square shape. The men are framed in the centre of the photograph, with a thick fabric draping hanging behind them. It must have been taken at a photo studio. My grandfather is sitting in a wooden backed chair, feet spaced apart but flat on the ground, with his brother standing on his left, his hand on my grandfather’s shoulder. The two kids are standing at his knee on his right holding each other’s hands. It’s like a generational link being formed with each of them touching each other in the image.

I asked my Mother about the image. She took it from my hand with a wistful expression on her face. She said they had taken this image just before my grandfather and uncle had gone on Hajj (holy pilgrimage to Mecca and Madinah). Back then they would be gone for many months and my grandfather wanted an image of them to take with him. It was too expensive to take separate ones of Oupa and Daddy and another one of Uncle and Junaid, so they posed together in one photograph.

I asked if there wasn’t one of Ouma with Oupa. Mom said that there was one. It was Oupa, Ouma and aunty Gadija, my daddy’s sister. When I asked where that one was, she said aunty Gadija had it. She also had the one where it was the four of them alone as a family. How come she has them both, I asked my Mommy. She laughed and said you must ma ask your aunty that.

So I did. I called her on the phone to ask her why she has the pictures and why she had never shown it to us. My dad was in there too. It would be so kwaai to have an image of them together as a family because Oupa and Ouma were not alive anymore. And now that Daddy is also not doing so well, I think I want him to tell me all his stories and see all the pictures of him when he was small. The more I thought about it, the more I now wanted to collect all the family images and compile them into an online space for the whole family. Like an Abrahams archive!

My aunty Gadija answered the phone on the first ring as she always does cause she’s constantly on Facebook. Salaam my girl she said. Salaam Aunty, how are you? Are you again chatting there on Facebook? No man girly, she laughs, I’m just reading about this one lady that had a terrible time with getting the vaccine. But why you calling me on a Wednesday nogals. I told her about the photograph and how I was thinking of creating an archive for the family. Haai, that will be so nice my girl. I asked her if she had the ones with her that my mommy had told me about. She suddenly went quiet. Aunty Gadija? I asked. Are you ok?

Uh look here my girl, I can’t give you that photos. She sounded so matter of fact. I got a tightness in my stomach because I don’t think I had ever heard my aunty use that tone. She was so serious and sounded like she was not going to take any discussion about it. She said she had to go and before I could say anything she had already hung up the phone.

I stood there for a few mins completely confused. Then I heard my mommy giggle. She’s not going to give you the pictures ne? No, I said, and I have no idea why. What happened mommy? Cause Aunty Gadija sounds so upset. Ah my child, you know how aunty Gadija likes to have short hair? Yes, she always says long hair is too much effort. Well that has been going on since she was a child. So before Ouma and Oupa went on Hajj she had shoulder length hair. When Aunty Gadija found out that she was going to stay with Aunty Bibi, Ouma's sister. She took a scissors and cut her hair herself. What!! But why!?? I asked shocked. Well, aunty Bibi was known for brushing our hair very rough, she would pull you by the hair with the brush and if you had tangles, ooh jinne, then you end up in tears when she was done. And if she made you plaits it was so tight that you’d have a headache the whole day. But just take out the plaits then Aunty Bibi would skell and just redo them. So Aunty Gadija didn’t want to go through that and just cut her own hair. She cut anywhere she could reach. Some pieces were right at her scalp and some were longer. All the pictures of her at that time, she hides them away. They had to wait for her hair to grow out before they could cut it decently again. Luckily when Oupa and Ouma came back, her hair was in a bob.

I couldn't stop laughing. I don't think Ill ask her about them again. But maybe I can get my cousin Amina to find it and take a picture of it with her phone to send to me. Just so I can see it.